


Meeting Damien Thorn

by twiniitowers



Category: The Omen (Movies)
Genre: #Harried Housekeeper, #Loving Disciple, #The Antichrist, #damienitsallforyou, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-28
Updated: 2016-04-28
Packaged: 2018-06-04 21:11:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6675607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twiniitowers/pseuds/twiniitowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Satan sows the seeds for Damien to meet his future wife.<br/>Part of the Thirty canon.<br/>JoanMilton helped with some concepts.<br/>I may or may not be changing Deana's surname to Peterson instead of Patterson, but that will happen when I get there. :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meeting Damien Thorn

Damien sat in his study at one in the morning to look at the stacks of resumes on his desk. He needed someone who could manage the household staff without him having to micromanage and that was on a good day or babysit his staff on bad one.

 

 

 

**Deana Patterson**

**616 Warwick Road**

**Lake Forest, IL**

**60045**

**DP@*********.com**

**Schooling:**

**Roosevelt University**

**Chicago location**

**Bachelor of Science in Hospitality and Tourism Management (BSHTM)**

**Graduated:**

**Summa Cum Laude**

**Lake Forest Academy**

**Graduated:**

**High Honors:**

**Activities: Swim team, soccer, and yearbook.**

**Achievements in community: Black belt in karate at 16, from Airwolf Martial Arts Academy**

**Mission statement: Looking for a position that challenges my natural abilities that elevates your company.**

 

 

This young woman named Deana Patterson was coming for an interview today at two-thirty pm. Damien heard good things about her from Paul who knew the Patterson family, she had the credentials and from the photograph he saw of her, she was attractive, not that was supposed to make a difference, but she was pretty.  If she could get the job done, her looks were a bonus.

She just might be the one.

  **...666...**

  
Deana owned a candy apple red BMW, it was a gift from her parents for her high school graduation. With her index finger with its glossy burgundy painted nail she pressed the button so the window would go down.  She pressed the red button and introduced herself.

“...I’m Deana Patterson, I have an interview with Damien Thorn for the household management position.”

She was so nervous, but meditated to Satan’s wisdom. She knew about Damien Thorn ever since she was thirteen and got the calling and her father’s golf buddy, Paul Buher,  who told her at the family barbeque that in time she would meet the Antichrist, but she would have to be patient until that day. Now here she was hearing a man’s voice full of static from the intercom to turn left and park in the visitor’s area and come in the service entrance and ask for a Monica Sawyer.  Deana was ready. She knew she would succeed. Too much was at stake for her not to. 

 

**...666...**

Monica was glad the meal of the evening was to be beef stew because the slices of the potatoes were not uniform as she tossed them into the pot. She was slightly angry, but could not show it, she was supposed to be the manager of the housekeeping staff. Why would Mr. Thorn hire someone not already in-house? She had the experience as she did more than the cooking and spent time fixing the errors of the other girls. Richard Thorn hired her, impressed by her abilities to cook a seven course French meal.

The buzzer rang.  Monica knew that Damien had interviews all day. The last woman who came in was retired from the Army and looked like a stodgy school marm.

Rather than open the door and from a quick glance at this younger woman through the glass window a pit of dread entered her stomach. Damien had been doing interviews all day, she was quite sick and tired of playing butler when she had her own duties to take care of.

“How may I help you?”

Wasn’t it fucking obvious? She wasn’t standing on the service porch carrying her red Hermes Kelly briefcase for her health. Was this woman dense? No wonder Damien was not hiring from within.

“Hello, my name is Deana Patterson and I have an interview with Damien Thorn, but first I was supposed to ask for a Monica Sawyer. Are you she?”

“Yes.”

“Would you open the door, please?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot.”

Monica sighed. Damn. She was the type her mother warned her about. Why did she have to be younger than her? Jesus Christ. She respected her boss, but this might be a case where a man thought with the head that was not attached to his neck.  This Deana Patterson person looked like she should be working at posh boutique. She was wearing dressy designer dark black jeans, a blue silk blouse, a black blazer, and blue stiletto heels that matched back to the color of her blouse. And although she wasn’t naked, she still thought she looked like a gold digging slut. 

“I’ll show you to the waiting room and I’ll let Mr. Thorn know you are here.”

“That would be appreciated.” Deana noted that Miss Sawyer was not espousing exceptional service, she did not offer her something to drink.

“Have a seat. Mr. Thorn will see you shortly.”

 

**...666...**

  
This was the last interview.  Damien wanted to call and check up on Maureen and speak to Mark who took the day off from work. He was going to be an uncle in one month.

When Damien opened the side door of his den that was connected to the waiting area he was stuck by her shining blonde hair that went to her shoulders and sparkling green eyes. And she was the only candidate who wore pants, and dressy jeans at that.

Individuality...check.

“Hello.”  She closed her date book and stood up.

That was when Damien noticed her stunning green eyes, and, her well-endowed chest.

“Hello, Mr. Thorn.” She extended her hand.  She had a nice, firm handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Patterson. Why don’t we go into my study for privacy? I hope you found the house all right.”

The way he said house as if this was a small apartment in crowded neighborhood and not a sprawling estate made Deana smile at him. 

“Yes, I did.”

“Would you like something to drink?”

“A glass of water would be lovely. Thank you for offering, Mr. Thorn.”

“Did Monica not offer you a drink?" She did that with three out of the ten candidates. 

“No. I hope she isn’t going to get into any trouble?”

"Don't worry. I'll take care of it."

Damien put ice in the high-ball glass and took out a mini bottled water out from under the mini fridge. This Deana Patterson was too sexy, the way she crossed her legs in those properly fitting jeans. It would give him something to think about later.  Damien did not want to have sex with people he hired, so he was going to have push those feelings down until he felt them no more; but damn, she was beautiful.

“Would you like a lemon or a lime wedge?”

“Surprise me.” He was so sexy, she was going to have to take a shower with her vibrator, and her bare hands, when this was all over. But she was here to work, so she had to repress those feelings deep deep down. But Antichrist or not, there was no denying his sex appeal. 

Damien figured she’d fancy the lime wedge so he used the mini fork to drop it into her glass.

“Thank you. Now, Mr. Thorn, I took it upon myself to create a matrix. I estimated the number of staff as I don’t have those precise figures. I think there should be a more regimented schedule and the staff excluding your driver, should write weekly reports to me.”  She took her folder out of her briefcase, “I also made a memo, should I get the job, for the staff that I would prefer to be called Ms. Patterson...is this a problem?”

She was so confident and sure of herself. Check. 

Damien smiled. “Not at all, as far as I’m concerned you have the job.” He was almost afraid to stand up. He had to force those feelings out of his system until his hard on subsided.

Deana took a drink of the lime water and put the glass on the marble coaster. “Thank you, Mr. Thorn.”

“As you are aware this job is a live in position...so give yourself two days to move in and you can start managing on Monday.”

“Could it be Sunday instead?”

“Why is that?”

“Sunday starts the week.”

“Okay...I like your take charge attitude, Deana. Sunday it is. Welcome to the Thorn family….”  He put out his hand for her to shake.

“It’s my pleasure...and also you’ll find that I will write a separate monthly report for you.”

“Do you ever stop working?”  

“No, but I read that you are quite the overachiever yourself....but I do like to work-out, I just completed a kickboxing class and well, on the rare occasion I do like to watch a good movie.”

Snuggling with him on a sofa, would have been beautiful, but she had to bury those thoughts. That wasn’t her role. Her role was to manage this household and she could do that with her eyes closed.

Deana’s name and reputation was on the line and she could not and would not let Damien Thorn down.

**...666...**

**NEXT DAY**

Monica crumbled up this memo from Ms. Uppity and threw it in the wastebasket. Who did Deana -- no -- this Ms. Patterson think she was?  Just because the movers went on break, making her take one box of her belongings into her quarters off the dining room was not right.  This should have been her job and living space. This bitch was just rubbing it in.

“Monica, could you please be careful with that box. Does it not say fragile on it?”

“I’m sorry Ms. Patterson.” She wanted to keep her job.

“And by the way, I noticed that you go shopping on Wednesday? Is there a good reason why you don’t go on Tuesday when the market is having a sale? Do you enjoy wasting Mr. Thorn’s money?”

“Yes, because that is my day off to spend with my Mother who is in the Royal Oaks Care Facility. That was something Mr. Richard Thorn allowed me to do. And no...I do not waste the boss's money.”

“In case you haven’t noticed this is now Mr. Damien Thorn’s household and you will go to the market on Tuesday.  The money you waste on groceries could be better spent elsewhere. And I want an extra page added to your report. You can see your mother anytime, so don’t play that sad daughter card with me.”

Would this witch even care about her mother’s doctor’s appointments? “It’s two hours away from here.”

“That’s really not my problem, Monica. Mr. Thorn hired me to fix the problems around here and I am going to fix them.  Just so you know, you can be replaced.”

Monica needed her job, so she would just have to find a way to co-exist with her new immediate manager. “Where would you like this box?”

“On the table over there. You can go now, Monica.”  As long as she knew the status quo was going to change around here, then having her move one box got the point across was a worthwhile exercise.

When Monica left Deana crossed her arms and smiled as she looked out the window. "Hail Satan" She whispered into the air. Everything felt right. 

She was where she belonged. 

_It was good to be home._

**...666...**

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I have an idea for Deana's email address but I didn't do any research to see if it's actually a valid address so I left it blank for the reader to use their imagination. Thank you.


End file.
